


One Way or Another

by MelodyoftheVoid



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: 2 is worried about his disaster husband, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Zib is going to Snap, any who have fun with this, he should be, i know i will, the kids will be fiiiiine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyoftheVoid/pseuds/MelodyoftheVoid
Summary: Gruff morally dubious character becomes dad? Excellent. Someone takes those kids away? Even b e t t e r.:)
Relationships: Zib | Zim Number 1 & Original Smeet Character(s), Zib | Zim Number 1/Zim Number 2
Comments: 37
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Awareness came back to Zib in painful,  _ painful _ , pieces. His head throbbed with each heart beat, a constant hammer at his temples. Then as his aching body began to move his vision swam and whirled. Zib searched his memory for some hint of what had transpired when he heard it. 

Or more accurately, he didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear anything. 

The ship was completely and utterly silent. 

The hybrid shot up with a lurch, holding onto the wall for balance as he tried to keep upright. The kids. Why couldn’t he hear them? 

“Yew?! Gir?! Mem, Kit, Junior?! Suds?! T-Tij?!”

He called out, chirping and yelling into the hallways that were normally so full of life and laughter but now only echoed his cries back to him. 

They were gone. 

Panic set in quickly, the void in his memory of the events leaving Zib reeling and clawing for answers. 

“Two?! Two-ey?!” 

His mate’s room was empty as well, but not without clues. Scratch and laser marks lined the walls, indicating a struggle. A sour relief. Two would never allow something to happen without putting up a fight. Yet as more memories bubbled to the surface of his aching mind that brief relief turned to utter shame. 

They’d been boarded, late in their day cycle after they'd put the smeets to bed. They'd said something about wanting the Irkens, regarding him for a moment before dismissing him as "damaged goods". Zib hadn’t been able to fight them off, so rusty and out of practice he’d gone down without landing anything more than a single punch. A blow from the butt of a gun sent him quickly to the floor, the sounds of his family’s pleas for help ringing in his ears as he lost consciousness. 

It hit Zib all at once. He’d failed his family. Again. And they were gone, possibly forever, because of _him_. Zib collapsed to the floor under the weight of the guilt and grief, clutching his arms and crying out in the vain hope that he’d ever hear a response.

He sat there for what felt like ages, before he peeled away from the floor. An old familiar burning igniting in his heart. Righteous, indignant, and _furious._ How  _ dare _ they. How dare these  _ monsters  _ touch his kids, take his kids, his Two. Zib snarled at the mental image of Tij's needs not being met, the fragile Smeet's health failing out of neglect. Gir's arm that he'd slaved over for months being sold for parts, torn off improperly. Mem's healing used and abused, Sud's sold for his oddity, Kit's spirit being broken, Junior's habit of picking fights landing him in over his head. And Two... 

His Twoey... 

This wouldn't stand. 

A hidden compartment opened, revealing screens and a small arsenal, all collecting dust. A long coat from a time past hung on the hook nearby. Zib pulled up the security camera footage, scrubbing through the assault for any detail he could use. 

These fuckers could try and hide in whatever corner of the universe they came from, try and run. But he was Zib fucking Membrane. He had razed his own universe to the ground, nearly done the same to countless others. Nothing could stop him, no one _would_ stop him. He would not rest until he made. Them.  **Pay.**

A ping from the AI caught his attention, it'd analyzed the footage as best it could resulting in a set of tattoos, perhaps markings on the back of the head alien. Something distinct. He could work with that. 

“Computer,” Zib winced at the scratch in his voice, “set a course for Cyberflox.”

He had a bastard to catch. 

He had a family to find.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in on the precious cargo.

Two held Tij close, wincing as the PAK suppressor let out a small warning shock when he tried to run diagnostics. The smeet whined softly, squirming and calling for Zib. All he could do was click his own song to soothe him and plan. The other smeets were nearby in the small room, some nervously pacing while others stared at the door in dread. 

Whoever had taken them, they certainly knew enough about Irkens to disable them quickly, and had the resources to keep them there. He cursed himself for not keeping up with training, but it seemed so unnecessary to him after he’d settled in with Zib. What use was combat when you had smeets to try and keep up with?

Hindsight was, as they said on Earth, a bitch. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d cursed his foolish naïveté in believing that the good would last forever. Certainly not the first when it came to Zib either. It likely wouldn’t be the last.

Regardless, he needed to be strong now, and use everything he had to get out. 

“Gir, do you think you can get your arm working? If you can, we might be able to break the cuffs, and then we can fix our PAKs.”

The one armed smeet nodded stoically, bumping up against the wall to detach the prosthetic. 

“Papa,” Kit looked up at him with wide eyes, “is Daddy going to come save us?” 

Two hated seeing his little spitfire so distraught, it killed him frankly. Mem seemed to share her sister’s worry and hugged Kit close. 

“Yeah! He will!” Junior piped up, boisterous even as he kept his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “He can do anything! He’ll totally find us!” 

Two let out a worried sigh, meeting Yew’s equally concerned gaze. 

“I’m not worried he won’t find us, I know he can.”

Mem tilted her head, “Then why are you worried?”

“I’m worried about what he will do to do it. Your dad is a… very determined person. I just don’t want him to hurt himself…”

Or do something that he’d regret. But Two didn’t say that. It wasn’t his place to explain how he and Zib met, nor what his mate had gone through or done. What he could do if pushed.

He knew that conversation about Zib's past: his original universe, the Void, and the virus, would be a hard one. Now was not the time.  Not only would it frighten the already scared smeets, but it could set off their kidnappers as well. The less they thought of Zib, the more likely he could take them by surprise later.

Two glanced down the hall, where the same two guards standing watch over their cell were posted. Not that they were doing all that much. The duo seemed to be in deep discussion over some pedantic issue, something about the best way to aim a long range rifle. 

Obviously the one on the right was correct but that was besides the point. 

Yew whispered in his antenna, telling him that now was the time to start their plan. Their best odds for getting out of here intact started now or never. 

“Hang on Zib, please.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 isn't stupid. He knows his husband is though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zib finds out what he needs to know, after a... few attempts.

Zib fidgeted with the strap of the gun on his back, eyes darting around the stalls of Cyberflox. He hated the fact that he was  _ here _ of all places. It smelled, it was crowded, it was… 

It was where he’d have ended up if he hadn’t found the smeets. Found a simpler life. 

But here he was anyway. Because he couldn't have one thing could he? 

Regardless. 

He held his head high, ignoring the stares from the suspicious passers by. His height made him stand apart from the crowd, but that’s all they were staring at thankfully..Who would’ve thought that humans were on the higher end of the scale in terms of height? That and his… creator was a rather tall man. Cloning and what not. That and he’d learned to cover up his PAK if he was out anywhere in public. So the stares were for his height. Nothing more. 

A sign for a local bar directed Zib’s attention away from the unwelcome attention. If memory served, there was a Vortian informant that frequented the place. He’d thought about visiting them during his… empire destroying phase. To look for weak spots in the Massive, the supply chain, whatever he could get his claws on. He’d never gotten around to it, a lack of funds and fuel had made Cyberflox more inconvenient than helpful, but he digressed. 

Zib couldn’t help but cough at the smell of smoke and fermentation in the bar, the aroma overwhelming his senses momentarily. More and more he was reminded of how… miserable this life was. All the more reason to get what he needed and get his family back. 

Scanning the crowd, Zib repeated the traits that he remembered from the descriptions. Long horns, blue eyes, dusty grey coloring, apparently they’d gotten the short end of a deal with some smuggling ring a long time back and made it a point to take all clients, regardless of who they were. 

Though they also had a temper from a few reports. So there was that.

After a few minutes of milling aimlessly, Zib spotted a lone Vortian in the back, fitting the descriptions and shooing off some other alien. The din of the bar covered up what they were saying exactly, but they weren't happy. Gathering his nerves, and channeling every loner space outlaw he could think of, he approached the booth, sliding in across from his target. 

“So, I hear you know quite a few people.”

The Vortian raised an eyebrow, looking up from their drink with a bored expression.

“I do. And what exactly do you care?”

“I’m looking for this being,” Zib pulled up a hologram of who he assumed to be the head of the marauders, “boarded my ship recently and made off with some… precious cargo.” 

“No introduction or anything huh? Given I’ve never seen anything like you, you must be from some backwater place. No manners.”

Zib let out a sigh, massaging the bridge of where his nose once was out of habit. He really was out of practice with this sort of interaction. 

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long day. I go by Zib, and I truly do need your help.” 

“Tch, good enough. Then name’s Feld-Var, and let me see what you’ve got there.” 

The silence was tense, the click of claws on the table the only sound as Feld-Var looked the holo-image over, pulling up their own tablet and appearing to cross reference some other database. They paused, looking concerned.

“You sure this was the guy?”

“Yes.” 

They pushed back the holo-image, crossing their arms.

“I’m not in a position to help you. Not with this. Not my problem.”

“What?!”

Zib’s heart sank, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of something, anything he could offer. 

“Please I’m desperate here, I don’t know who else to turn to I need-”

“I don’t deal in trafficking. So you can take your business elsewhere before I call the bouncer over.” 

The PAK leg was out and charged underneath Feld-Var’s chin before Zib was even conscious of it. His body shook with barely contained rage. 

“Do not  **_fucking_ ** associate me with those scumbags. That being there? They stole my smeets and my mate. Raided my ship and kidnapped them. If you don’t give me details I will remove your head from your body and use it as an example for whoever I ask next. See if they’ll give me what I need to get them back.” 

The bar went dead quiet, all of the chatter dying out into tense anticipation. 

Still, the Vortian held their head high. Steel in their eyes.

“And if I believe you, that you, whatever you are, have a family unit with the smeets you claim this person stole. What about it? Am I supposed to believe that you will take care of these people? That you’re capable of dealing with an organization like them?”

A wild smile stretched across Zib’s face, feral and dangerous. 

“I would love nothing more than to make sure they never live to see another day. Every breath they take is a waste.”

Zib pulled the PAK leg back slightly, letting the laser at its tip hum, but not fully charge. 

“...fine then. I don’t know what ship this crew was using, but I do have a few sources on the base of operations they trade at. That’s your best bet. A popular club on Tivet, the Red Wire. Likely fortified last I heard. That’s all I can offer.” 

The hybrid straightened up, withdrawing his weapon completely, schooling himself back to a neutral face. 

“Thank you for your assistance.” 

With that he left, already plotting where to next stock up on guns and ammo. They'd be tougher nuts to crack, he really didn't have the credits to purchase them by either legal or non-legal means, but... He could swing that. Who'd miss a few weapons smugglers. It'd make the galaxy a safer place, and it'd get his family back in his hands faster. A win win really. 

He’d make sure that these monsters would never so much as touch another smeet again. No matter what it took. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehoo. His family really do be 99% of his impulse control huh. F.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yew can see quite a lot. Whether that's a good thing or not is up for debate.

Of all Yew’s least favorite things about his… abilities, one of the worst was how hard it made nighttime. 

His siblings could all drift to sleep well enough (Junior could fall asleep folded into a pretzel, and Gir slept with his eyes open he swears), yet more often than not Yew found himself awake well into his proper sleep cycle. 

Given his current situation it was a minor miracle that he’d gotten the small crumbs of sleep that he had. 

But yet again his bi-colored eyes refused to remain shut, the images too loud and vivid. Possibilities too numerous. The smeet looked over to his Papa, holding a slumbering Tij and scanning over the other smeets. Sheepishly, he crept towards that familiar cloak, curling up next to Two. 

“Can’t sleep again?”

“Mhmm.” 

“Is it about… Zib?”

Yew let out a breath, a shiver going up his spine. 

“...yes.” 

Two set a gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling the smeet closer, chirping softly to reassure his child. 

“May I ask what you saw?” 

Images of a gruesome experiment, an alternate twisted into an inhuman monster to take vengeance on the empire, senseless murder and torture, caused another shudder to run up his spine. 

“Dad… doing bad things. Really… awful things. I’m scared of what he’s doing right now. I haven’t seen him, can’t see him, but if that’s what he could do- I don’t-” 

“Hey, hey calm down, I’ve got you, deep breaths remember? Focus on the present.”

The images slowed, the reality of the cell oddly grounding all things considered. 

“Thank you papa, I’m just. I’m scared.”

“I don’t blame you, this is a scary situation, and I know that Zib has made some very poor choices in the past, but you all are his whole world. He loves you, and he’s changed so much since he found you. It’s going to be alright. Now, how’s about helping me with these suppressors?”

“Ok.”

The two of them didn’t make much progress, only managing to free up a few of the more basic functions, like diagnostics. It was a start though. If they kept at it, they’d be able to make a move, and hopefully, escape. The sooner they get back, the less possible damage caused. 

His dad wasn’t- he wasn’t like those other versions. It was going to be ok. It had to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yew Knows™. 
> 
> And yes this was a shout out to the PAKked au. An old fav of mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways Taken™ but in space. Enjoy.


End file.
